Page 44 of Strength in Submission
He sets the collar aside for now and picks up the rope. "Arms behind your back."
I comply, and he begins to bind me elaborately. Not just my wrists this time, but my arms and torso, the rope creating intricate patterns against my skin. Each wrap of rope feels like a claim, a mark of his ownership.
When he's finished, I'm bound tightly but not uncomfortable. The rope distribution spreads the tension, making it more of an embrace than a restraint.
"Exquisite," he says, stepping back to admire his work. "Now, on the bed. On your back."
Moving to the bed is more challenging with my arms bound, but I manage it with his help. He arranges me just how he wants me—legs spread, feet flat on the bed, knees up.
"I'm going to take my time with you tonight," he says, settling between my legs. "I'm going to make you come so many times you lose count. And when you're completely wrung out, completely mine, then I'll put my collar around your neck."
He starts with his hands, exploring every inch of my body with deliberate slowness. When he finally puts his mouth on me, I arch off the bed with a cry. Without my hands to anchor myself, every sensation is magnified.
He works me expertly, bringing me to the edge again and again before pulling back. By the time he finally lets me come, I'm sobbing with need.
"Please," I gasp as he continues to torture me with gentle touches. "Please, I need you inside me."
"Not yet," he says, moving up to take my nipple in his mouth. "You don't get my cock until you're wearing my collar."
The promise makes me moan. He continues his sensual attack on my body, using his mouth and hands to drive me wild. When he finally reaches for the collar, I'm a trembling mess of need and sensation.
"Last chance to back out," he says seriously. "Once this goes on, you're mine completely. In every way."
"I'm already yours," I tell him. "This just makes it official."
He fastens the collar around my neck with such care. The leather is soft against my skin, the weight both comforting and arousing. There's a small ring at the front that jingles softly when I move.
"Perfect," he breathes. "Absolutely perfect."
Then he's finally inside me, filling me completely, and I cry out at the sensation. The collar shifts against my throat with each thrust, adding another layer of pleasure to everything I'm experiencing right now.
"Mine," he growls, setting a demanding pace. "My good girl. My sub. My woman."
"Yours," I agree, lost in the sensation. "Always yours."
When I come this time, it's with his name on my lips and his collar around my throat. He follows soon after, burying himself deep and groaning my name.
Afterward, he carefully unties me, massaging feeling back into my arms. But he leaves the collar on.
"How does it feel?" he asks, tracing the leather with one finger.
"Right," I say simply. "Like coming home."
We lie together in the dark, my fingers playing with the ring on my collar.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
"For what?"
"For giving me the strength to face my past. For helping me become who I'm supposed to be."
"You did that yourself, baby. I just gave you a safe place to land."
"I love you, Santiago."
"I love you too, Violet. My collared girl. My woman. Mine."
As I drift off to sleep in his arms, wearing his mark of ownership, I can't help but smile. Today changed everything—my relationship with my father, my understanding of my own past, my future with Santiago.
